


Tattoo My Heart

by Brittles_06



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Comedy, F/M, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brittles_06/pseuds/Brittles_06
Summary: An incident has happened while out in the field that lands the four Hogwarts Alumni at Malfoy's apartment. What could possibly happen?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 90





	Tattoo My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.
> 
> This is the first time I have ever written in the Dramione world, or even in the Harry Potter fandom. This is also the first time I have written in over five months, so please be kind. This is me dipping my toes in to see how my story/writing style is received as I do have a multi-chapter planned depending on the readers. I was thinking about adding smut to the end but I haven't written that in about a year, so if you want me to add a chapter 2 to include that just let me know

She sat in her own personal bubble of hell, surrounded by dozens of others who were all in the same boat as her. Well, the same bubble she supposed but regardless it was hellish. It was overly warm, which was fine since their clothes had all been incinerated upon the Department of Magical Quartining descending upon the scene, leaving them naked. Thankfully no-one could peep in on them thanks to a spell to not allow anyone, besides medical or quarantine staff, to see said person inside. She’d been poked and prodded several times which was NOT helping her frustration. At least she wasn’t claustrophobic, as one of her co-workers had to be placed under a sleeping spell so he would stop hyperventilating. 

How did Hermione and thirty other employees from the Ministry of Magic wind up in individual isolation? 

It had started like any other day at the Ministry for her, working on a research project for civil rights for hybrid witches and wizards while simultaneously helping Luna out with the paperwork needed for a wizard to surrender magical beasts to the Ministry's MagiZoology Protection and Rehabilitation Program. Luna was part of a team that was going in to collect roughly twenty-five different kinds of beasts from a malnourished hoarding situation. What should have been an easy in and out within a few hours ended up being catastrophically different. 

Aurors had been called in due to magical traps and hexes being placed ALL OVER THE DAMN PROPERTY. It went from a Level 2 situation to a Level 5 in mere minutes, so naturally, they called any capable wizard or witch to the scene to help sort it out, and since she was an integral part of taking down Voldemort she was called to assist. Hermione had met Harry, Ron, and Draco at the same apparition point within the Ministry, heading off all at once into what they thought would be a simple error with how drastic the situation actually was, since the Ministry Officials tended to up-play these situations FREQUENTLY.

The large mansion was completely black - black siding, black shingles, black doors, and windows, etc. However, there were puffs of brightly colored powder floating in the background, lots of purple, orange, and greens. Clearly, they were dealing with more than a hoarding situation, definitely had some illegal potions lab and Merlin knows what else. “How do we want to approach this?”

“It was suggested that we go in pairs so I think we should stick with that. No idea what kinds of beasts and creatures we’re dealing with, let alone how many traps and baddies there might be.” 

“So how do we decide who goes with who, Weaselbee?”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Hermione rolled her eyes at the red-head.

“I think I should be with Ron and Malfoy should go with you, Hermione.”

“Why do I get stuck with the Gryffindor Princess?”

“Please! You’d be lucky to have me as your partner, prat!”

“Such language coming from you. I’m shocked your mouth can handle such terms.” Malfoy smirked at Hermione while she settled on silently glaring at him.

“You should see what she can do with that mouth.” Hermione took her hand and cuffed Ron upside the head as her face turned beet red. Harry coughed, looking away rather embarrassed at the situation. Malfoy’s wide eyes and open mouth spoke volumes of how shaken he was by that statement. 

“Ronald Bilius Weasley! How dare you . . . Why would you? UGH!” Hermione stormed off in the direction of the house, her black jacket billowing in the wind behind her.

“You’d better follow her, Malfoy. Just stay several steps behind her until she cools down from Ron’s ah . . . comment.”

“At least she isn’t bloody pissed off at me. Good luck, Weaselbee.” Malfoy took off after Hermione who was shooting stunning spells left, right, and center for every creature that she happened across.

“I thought Luna said there were only twenty-five or so creatures they were wrangling up. There has to be close to a hundred!” Hermione saw a flash of orange, reacting on instinct as she threw her weight against Malfoy, pinning him against the outside of the house. “Wipe that smirk off your face, bloody pervert.”

“You’re the one pressed up against me, Granger. If I knew you like it rough I would have pursued you a long time ago.” Hermione ducked away from him, hitting a Hippogriff’s beak with a stunning spell and letting herself linger on that comment. 

“Stay alert, Malfoy would hate for yet another Hippogriff to best you.” His glare had her smiling as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and ran back into the chaos. He was hot on her heels this time, throwing his own spells into the mix. They were entering the center of the grounds, where quite a few of M.O.M. employees had gathered, the scene was quieter here.

“Something doesn’t feel right.” Malfoy grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him as Hermione cast her eyes down to will away her blush. 

“Malfoy,” her hesitant brown eyes met his steel-colored ones, “Why is the ground glowing yellow?” Two pairs of eyes looked downwards again before people started screaming, yellow erupting from the earth in a strange pattern. Malfoy pulled Hermione to her chest, turning them so his back was to the glow as she buried her face into his chest. Warmth flashed through her entire body, focusing on her inner right thigh before it all faded away. Scared brown eyes met confused grey ones as Malfoy pushed her away from his body, giving her a once over to make sure she was fine. 

“What the bloody hell happened?” Two heads turned to see Ron and Harry making their way towards the two of them. “Well, don’t you two look cozy even though we could have just DIED!” 

“Your theatrics are not wanted here, Weaslebee, so just stuff it.”

“What’ll happen now?” Harry turned to Hermione, waiting for an answer.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You know EVERYTHING, Hermione. You can’t tell us that you don’t at least have a hypothesis on the topic.” Harry smiled at his best friend, knowing he’d won as she huffed slightly.

“Hypothetically speaking, they’ll send someone here to look into the incident and figure out what the golden earthly light was. We’ll be interrogated and more than likely sent home.” 

“That doesn’t sound so bad, I mean it could be worse.” Ron shrugged his shoulders as three sets of glares rounded on him. “What? Why are you . . .” A clear orb encompassed his person, his clothes were dropped into a void beneath his feet leaving him naked. “What the bloody hell is going on here? Look away! I don’t need you to see me like this!”

“Like what, mate? All we can see is your head?” Harry questioningly looked at the ginger before he was enveloped into a clear bubble, followed shortly by Hermione and Malfoy. “Hermione? What are these things and how do we get out?”

“ECB’s, Enclosed Contamination Bubble. I guess someone at the Department of Magical Quarantining is overreacting a bit but I supposed it does make sense, considering we don’t know what may or may not have happened to us.” 

“Please do not be alarmed.” A ministry official came through on a com that was at the top of their bubble. “This is Dolores Paterson, Head of the Department of Magical Quarantining. We will be interviewing all of you while we look into the disturbance that has happened here today. With your cooperation, we should be done with our initial analysis within a few hours. We ask that you remain calm and answer the questions we ask of you. Thank you.” That announcement had been three hours ago. Hermione was a sweltering mess inside her bubble, which kept all the heat inside from the sun as it was a balmy sixteen degrees celsius outside on this October day. Hermione was beside herself since the magic not only took her clothes away but her ponytail as well. She was very much looking to get her hair off the back of her neck. It had grown to mid-waist over the past few years, but she usually kept it up as it was cooler and easy to manage that way. Maybe she could use a piece of her own unruly hair to tie up the rest? It was worth a shot. 

“What are you staring at?” She questioned Malfoy, as she caught him smirking at her from the corner of her eye. 

“Your hair has always been wild, Granger, but this has to a new level Amazonian coming out in you.” She huffed, finished what she intended to do.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, seeing as how the Amazon’s are amazing female warriors of our time. I mean, magic-infused swords and whips! Can you imagine?” She heard Malfoy groan while Ron rubbed a hand down his face and Harry looked away with a slightly more red tinge to his face. She didn’t give it any more thought, men were weird on a regular basis anyway. 

“Dolores Paterson here with an update. We will be sending you to specified houses that have been spelled to keep you in and others out. All apparition and floo channels will be closed or blocked to you at this time. We are hopeful to have an answer for you tomorrow morning by ten am. Otherwise, have a great night.” Bubbles started glowing a brilliant white light before shooting off into the sky. Hermione held her breath as hers started to brighten, her stomach dropped when it suddenly took off and she was laying on a hardwood floor, alone. 

She looked around the room, curiosity getting the best of her. The place was immaculate looking, with crisp white colors kitchen cupboards and dark green painted walls and black accent pieces. She was about to get up when she heard several more moans from across the dining room table. Gasping she ran towards the kitchen island, hiding as much of her naked body as she could. 

“Blimey, that wasn’t smooth at all.” Ron, Harry, and Malfoy all stood up from their various places on the floor. Hermione took a moment to stare at them before they noticed. Ron was something she had seen before since they did date for a year after the defeat of Voldemort. Harry she had also seen before as well since they had been living on the run together for so long. Malfoy . . . well at least she could stop fantasizing what was hidden under his incredibly tight suits at the office now. Broad shoulders, defined chest, lickable abs that led to very nicely cut V hips, and a large limp cock. She dropped her head to the counter, rather loudly, but she needed the pain to distract her actually getting caught staring. Her inner sex Goddess was preening at the sight while coming up with dozen scenarios that they should share. 

“I’ll grab us some clothes,” Malfoy muttered, walking towards a hallway off the kitchen as Hermione took deep breaths to keep from looking at what she was sure was a very toned arse. How had she gone from just silently appreciating how he looked in a suit every day to see this fine specimen of a man naked before her. Oh, how Merlin was tempting her, not that she would ever act on her desire. She wasn’t some common slag after the Slytherin Sex G. . . 

“Hermione, you okay? Did you stub your toe or somethin? You sound like you’re groanin’ in pain?” Leave it to Ron to pick up on her mood, getting it utterly wrong. At least his interruption of her thoughts halted her brain’s analogy of Malfoy’s Hogwarts nickname. 

“Fine. Just hit my head on the counter, nothing to worry about.”

“Here are some clothes. Do try not to put holes in them Weaselbee, I know these are far nicer than anything you’ve ever owned.” Hermione peeked over the counter watching as he gave Ron tan slacks, black boxers, and a black button-down shirt while Harry was standing in blue boxers, grey slacks, and a navy blue button-down shirt. The man knew how to dress, damn, she’d never seen her friends look so comfortably classy before. Draco himself was in black slacks and a hunter green button-down shirt. Simple, yet regal - all three of them. 

“You might need to transfigure them a bit to get the right fit.” Malfoy clothes for her on the counter, keeping his eyes averted. “Mother left a note, apparently she was aware of who would be occupying my home and sent Miffy over with something for a young lady to wear. I tried to tell her you’d look good in nothing but my shirt, however, she wasn’t on board with that idea.” She could see the smirk on his lips, cocky prat! Hermione picked up the black lace bikini underwear, wanting to protest but knowing he’d tell her to go without and that was NOT an option. There was a simple black push-up bra with the same lacy pattern as the underwear, marvelous. She did need to make the bra a bit smaller, but otherwise, the sizing was perfect. The dress was exquisite though, a lilac purple sleeveless dress with a keyhole back that was a-lined and flowed freely around her knees. 

“Greetings, Quarantine Witches and Wizards.” Green flames called them to Malfoy’s floo network with a message from the Ministry. “We have determined that the light that flooded was a bond identification of some kind, however, we have not been able to deduce more at this time. Your wands will continue to be locked securely in place at the Ministry as we do now know if there are any magical repercussions at this time. Please stay calm as we continue to diligently work. Your net update will be at ten am tomorrow morning, as previously stated.” 

“What the hell are we supposed to do now? It’s already after five and I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, mate. Is there any food in the house, Malfoy?” 

“Miffy has stocked the fridge and pantries, according to mother, but I am afraid I don’t know much about cooking.”

“Privileged much?” Ron snorted, Harry, smiling at the comment.

“I’m sorry Ronald, what do you know about cooking outside of boiling water and heating your leftovers with magic?” Ron’s smile fell but Malfoy’s smirk was back full force. Damn her for coming to his aid! 

“Hermione is an excellent cook!” Harry smiled, eyes glittering with wonder. “She’s the reason we didn’t wither away while chasing Horcruxes.” 

“I’ve never seen you use magic to cook before.” Ron tilted his head, lips pursed as he wracked his brain trying to remember.

“She doesn’t use magic, Ron. Hermione cooks the muggle way.” Seeing both Ron and Malfoy’s look of disbelief caused her to shake her head, silently amused. 

“How hungry is everyone?” Hermione opened the refrigerator, taking inventory of its contents before doing the same in the pantry.

“We haven’t eaten since breakfast, so I know I’m pretty hungry.” Harry’s stomach let out a strange gurgle, protesting it’s lack of nutrients for the day. “I think it’s safe to say we could all eat a house.”

“Alright. Do you have any food aversions or allergies?” Three heads shook, so she proceeded to grab some vegetables to cut up with some ranch dressing, something too much on while she worked on the actual meal. She grabbed some chicken, bacon, cream cheese, and spinach, smiling at the thought of making stuffed chicken wrapped in bacon. Her mouth was practically watering. “Why don’t you three find something to do? Perhaps a board game or grab a deck of cards?” Hermione listened to all three of them leave the room, relaxing slightly now that she wouldn’t have eyes constantly watching her. Not that it was a big deal if it was only Ron and Harry, but Malfoy, having him watch her . . . she shivered. Having his grey eyes staring at her back while she made food for him, was weirdly domestic, but her brain didn’t remain out of the gutter for long. She imagined him walking up behind her, pulling her hips to his as one hand lightly drifted up before wrapping around her neck. He’d fit one leg between both of her, effectively trapping her between his body and the counter as his free hand pulled up her dress. He’d roughly grab her ass before spanking her once, twice . . .

“Granger?” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut before she turned to face the man of her current fantasy. “What are you making for supper? I’d like to find the right kind of wine to pair it with.” She smiled, thinking he was utterly sweet for asking so she informed him of her plans. “A nice Moscato would pair nicely then. And Granger?”

“Yes, Malfoy?”

“You should stop broadcasting your thoughts so loudly.” He tapped his temple but the dark look his eyes took on held her to her spot.

“Why is your face so red?” Ron asked as he walked up to the fridge to grab a soda. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Fine,” Hermione squeaked before clearing her throat. “Fine Ronald, just a bit hot in the kitchen is all.” The red-head shrugged his shoulders, chugging some of the dark liquid as he returned to Harry.

“Hot indeed.” Malfoy gave her a once over before he too left the room. Hermione faced the sink, placed both hands on the edge, and gripped hard to keep herself standing. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, had just openly flirted with her. Was Voldemort returning? Perhaps Hell was freezing over? Or maybe she was overzealous brain misconstrued what occurred - yes, that was exactly it. With a clear mind, she got back to the task at hand, ensuring they had something to eat. 

Looking at the clock she realized it was almost six, with the chicken and roasted vegetables in the oven, the oil and vinegar salad prepped and ready to be mixed, and the wine chilling there wasn’t much else for her to do. She set the table then meandered to where the boys were, finding it oddly quiet. Ron was pointing a finger at Malfoy, who was smirking at Ron while Harry was wiping tears from his eyes as he clutched his side. Clearly, someone had put up a silencing spell with wandless magic, she frowned. Magic wasn’t to be used while they were under the effects of . . . well, whatever it was. She walked through the clear bubble to be assaulted with Ron yelling. She looked at the game they were playing, sighing as she rubbed her temples.

Monopoly. 

Why on Merlin’s green earth did they decide to play such an aggressive yet manipulative game. Looking at the three of them it was clear that in an hour Malfoy had been winning, judging by his number of property cards, Harry had quite a few as well and was also the banker, and Ron looked to be holding on to only five properties. Strategy was never really one of his strong suits unless it was chess - quite the conundrum. 

“The meal will be ready in less than ten minutes. Not sure if you want to pause this game or . . .” Ron lifting the board so that pieces, cards, and money went flying was not what she had been expecting. “Honestly Ronald! It’s a simple board game, no need to throw a tantrum.” 

“Ron’s always been a bit of a sore loser. He risked as much as any of us but Malfoy came out on top.”

“Risked what? His ego for losing?” Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked away from her childish friends, grabbing the empty plate of vegetables on her way out. 

“Don’t worry Hermione, he’ll get over it. Besides, we were quite into the game so we didn’t want to be overly loud and disturb you.”

“Harry, that was sweet of you, so thank you.” Her best friend was quite amazing, even if he went charging headfirst into everything obstacle he has ever had to face. “Can one of you grab a trivet please?” Harry and Malfoy looked at one another before staring blankly at her. “A trivet? Something to put the hot dishes on so it doesn’t burn the table?”

“Oh, right! A hot pad.” Harry pulled open three drawers before he found several cork trivets. “How many?”

“Four please.” Harry set them on the table while Hermione put on the red and black oven mitts to move the items from the oven onto the table. 

“Smells amazing!” Ron sat on one side of the table, Harry on one end and Malfoy on the other which meant she was across from Ron and sandwiched between Harry and Malfoy. 

“Thanks! I whipped up a quick batch of brownies for dessert too. Nothing fancy but I was feeling the need for something sweet & chocolatey.” The meal was eaten mostly in silence, each person more focused on the amazing food and filling their stomachs than conversing. 

“Granger, that was amazing. Where did you learn to cook?”

“Mum and dad were quite busy with their careers the older I became so they weren’t around as much. My grandmother, while she was with us, started spending a couple of weeks with us in the summer and taught me how to cook and bake. It was the best two weeks of the entire summer when I had to be at home.”

“How did she pass?” 

“Cancer. She was diagnosed and then two weeks later she was gone.” Harry and Draco each grabbed a hand but she looked at the blonde because she was surprised. 

“And your parents?” Ron sat back, clearly nervous at asking the question.

“They’re still in Australia living their best life. Without magic and me.” She whispered the last part. “They weren’t very pleased with the fact I had wiped their memories of me to save them, nor were they ecstatic about the war and my part in it.”

“You’re a heroine though, Hermione! Without you there was no chance in hell that we’d be where we are today, ALIVE!” Harry had always been her biggest advocate and support because she had helped him so relentlessly. 

“Yes well, they had told me that I shouldn’t be part of the war. They didn’t agree that one so young should be fighting in it, so we had fought. They don’t understand the wonders of magic, what the wizarding world is really like. I understand but it still hurts. Who wants dessert?” Hermione abruptly left the table to cut the still warm brownie, needing a few minutes to gather her thoughts. It had been so long since she had last spoken about what had happened. Harry was the only one who knew the extent of what had taken place, telling him after Ron had left them while on the hunt. She cleared their dirty dishes, without even realizing it, stuck in her memories. Once she had cleaned the dishes, put everything away, she was grateful they had left her to her own devices. 

The three of them were lounging in the living room. Malfoy was reading a book while Ron and Harry were playing wizard chess. Hermione grabbed a random book from Malfoy’s small collection, pulling the soft cream blanket from the back of the chair, and made herself comfortable. After several hours they all started to yawn, clearly ready to get this day over with and sleep.

“Where are we sleeping?” Ron asked, stretching his arms over his head.

“There are two rooms. You and Potter can room in one and Granger and I will be in the other.” Hermione missed the glare that Ron had shot Malfoy, too busy wrapping herself in the blanket for her tired brain to register what was going on. “Follow me, Granger.” Malfoy placed his hand on her lower back, gently guiding her to his room. “Sleep clothes are in the ensuite.” Hermione nodded at him and sleepily walked into the washroom where she started her nightly routine. Once she was done she dressed in the dark blue silk tank top and shorts that had been left out for her. Without a second thought, she crawled into the heavenly bed and let her dreams carry her off.

She was entirely too warm. 

Why on earth was she so incredibly warm when her room was always kept at a lower temperature because she liked to go to sleep while it was cool. But this, this was like when she used to spend her nights with Harry or Ron - extra heat. She ran her hand down her stomach, relishing in the luxurious fabric that was also not her normal ratty t-shirt and shorts. Her hand gently bumped into something slightly more hard and hairy than what she was used to.

Chocolate eyes shot wide open. Her head slowly started to turn behind her while she internally chanted ‘Please don’t be Ron. Please don’t be Ron. Please don’t be Ron.’ Blonde hair, that’s all she could see was unruly platinum blonde hair. She brought her hand up, running her fingers through the silky strands of hair which were much softer than she expected. She heard him groan, as his arms tightened around her stomach, and it was all she could do to not moan back from the feeling. He bit her shoulder and this time she did moan out loud.

“Mhmm, morning Hermione.” He said her first name! All adorably and sleep-filled, it warmed her heart to no end.

“Morning Draco. How did you sleep?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages. First time in forever that I wasn’t plagued with . . .”

“Wake up already! It’s almost ten and the Ministry update will be happening soon.” Malfoy threw the covers off of himself, clearly perturbed at being interrupted, Hermione was feeling the same thing, Ronald - world’s biggest cock block. However, the view of Draco in his boxer briefs was . . . well words couldn’t describe how utterly attractive she found him. 

“Hermione,” his gruff voice and heated stare had her shifting her thighs together, “we’ll have some time to figure this out. Days, weeks, years - whatever you’ll give me.” He buttoned up his charcoal shirt, tucking it into black slacks, but her mind was whirling with the information that he had given her. “Get dressed before that buffoon pries the door of its hinges to make sure you’re unharmed.” Hermione listened to the door close, not quite believing what had transpired. She opened the armoire doors to see several more beautiful dresses hanging there. Sliding the drawer open she found more underwear in all sorts of colors and fabrics. Grabbing a royal blue spaghetti strap sundress with matching underwear she quickly put everything on, sweeping her hair into a messy bun atop her head.

“Good morning witches and wizards. We have been able to establish that most of you who had been affected in yesterday’s unfortunate events will have tattoos appearing on your persons. The Ministry has determined that they do not cause harm to the individual they are appearing on. At this time we do not have anything else to go on. Please stay tuned for the next update at five pm today. Thank you.”

“Tattoos? Have any of you noticed tattoos on your body?” Hermione was intrigued by this new development, not having seen anything noticeable on her own body. Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances before they both rolled up the sleeves of their shirt. On Harry’s left forearm was a delicate tattoo of a pansy, simple yet elegant in its watercolor design. On Ron’s right forearm was a crescent moon with a soft cloud seemingly floating across it. 

“How strange. I wonder what it could mean.” Hermione ran her index finger over Harry’s forearm, receiving a small zap when she touched the tattoo. Curiously, she tried the same on Ron’s forearm receiving the same outcome. “Apparently the two of you don’t like me anymore.” They chuckled at her humor as she turned to Malfoy to inquire about a tattoo on him.

“Wouldn’t you know already seeing as you shared a room and stuff?” Ron crossed his arms over his chest, dejectedly looking away from the group. 

“Ronald! How dare you imply that Malfoy and I had . . . that we did something - NO! Not that it’s any of your bloody business anyway.” Hermione stormed off down an unfamiliar dark hallway, thoroughly embarrassed and pissed at how idiotic Ron could be. Honestly! It would be irresponsible of her to do anything untoward Malfoy when they were even sure what was going on with their own magic. Who knows what these tattoos could even be referring to. She wasn’t going to risk their magic and safety just to she could see if he lived up to the Slytherin Sex God title. Not that waking up in his arms wasn’t nice, nor having his almost nude body pressed up against hers but still! She had morals and a five-date rule she liked to utilize to make sure the guys she was with didn’t just want the bragging rights to ‘I’ve shagged the Gryffindor Princess.’

Men were the worst. 

Hermione sat on a small loveseat that was right up against a large bay window that overlooked the Wizarding world. The sun was warm on her skin as she closed her eyes to bask in its heat. She couldn’t understand why Ron was being a right git about Malfoy lately. The two of them had only dated for a mere six months before she broke it off because the spark she thought was there completely fizzled when there was no more drama once Voldemort was dead. The constant adrenaline, and need to be with those you truly trusted, was what had given her the infatuation with the youngest Weasley boy. 

“Hermione? Are you okay?” Harry sat on the other side of the loveseat, hand gently rested on her knee in a comforting way. 

“I’m fine Harry.”

“You know that Ron cares for you. I do too, you know this right?” 

“Yes, but unlike you, Ronald is being a bloody prat about . . . I don’t even know what his bloody problem is.”

“It’s nothing to concern yourself with. Ron just being Ron.”

“Harry James Potter,” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest smirking at the fellow brunette, “You are still the absolute worst liar.” They both chuckled at her astute observation.

“This isn’t for me to tell you though. He’ll have to get the courage to confront you about it.” Hermione rolled her eyes but knew that there was no messing with the ‘bro code’ as Ron always seemed to put it. “It’ll all sort itself out for the best, you’ll see. I’m going to make sure Ron doesn’t get hexed by Malfoy, you okay here?”

“Yeah, thanks, Harry.” Left to her own thoughts once more her mind began to fixate on her very brief conversation with Malfoy this morning. Did he really mean what he said or was it just morning fog that was clogging his brain? Could he possibly like her like that? 

Why?

That was the one question that continuously echoed in all avenues of her mind. She wasn’t overly pretty, she’d rate herself a solid six on a good day, and she was definitely hard to live with - Harry and Ron were proof of that. Her sexual prowess was nearly non-existent with the five people she’d ever shagged in her life. Career orientated mindsets seemed to put most people off of her, Merlin forbid she had aspirations and goals that didn’t involve starting a family before she was twenty-two. Stubbornness also seemed to turn people away from her, but perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing since no-one cared to argue with her. She wasn’t afraid to say she was wrong but there needed to be a valid point first, most men didn’t know the difference between ‘they’re, their, and there’ so why should she settle. Why was a sensitive intellectual so hard to find?

In the darkest recesses of her mind, there was one thought that seemed to draw her attention like a neon light. Malfoy had never once backed down from her, no matter what the topic was. He had changed his stance on several wizarding world views after the war, which left them well acquainted. They saw each other several times a month for group suppers or Friday drinks, he hadn’t called her any derogatory names in forever - unless he decided to be a teasing prat. He had created the Malfoy Orphanage Society, donating one of the smaller “cottages” for children who had lost everything. His mother was on board with that idea from the start, having been pardoned for her part in the battle due to lying to the Dark Lord, saving Harry, and condemning her own husband to Azkaban. Sounds like there had been quite the uproar between Lucius and Narcissa when it came to Draco participating in the His schemes. With Malfoy being an adult now, and Lucius in prison for life, Draco was now head of the Malfoy family which meant he was entitled to all the family money, jewels, and criticisms. 

So maybe, if she dared hope, that he could really be interested in someone like her? Was she ready to face the reality of that situation? To ask the question and if she was accepted or rejected? Could her heart handle what her mind was already certain about?

Looking down at her feet she noticed that a book had been left behind. Trust Harry to look after her need for silence and solace. MY BELOVED WORLD by Sonia Sotomayor; the first Hispanic and third woman appointed to the United States Supreme Court has become an instant American icon. In this story of human triumph that “hums with hope and exhilaration” ( _NPR_ ), she recounts her life from a Bronx housing project to the federal bench, a journey that offers an inspiring testament to her own extraordinary determination and the power of believing in oneself. Here is the story of a precarious childhood, with an alcoholic father (who would die when she was nine) and a devoted but overburdened mother, and of the refuge, a little girl took from the turmoil at home with her passionately spirited paternal grandmother. But it was when she was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes that the precocious Sonia recognized she must ultimately depend on herself. She would learn to give herself the insulin shots she needed to survive and soon imagined a path to a different life - oh she was hooked after reading that synopsis. 

“Hermione?” Ron’s timid voice called out as he stood a short way away with a glass of water in his hand. “You’ve been reading for an awfully long time, missed lunch, and we were concerned.”

“Oh my! What time is it?”

“Uhhh almost five. The next Ministry update will be happening soon.”

“Leave it to me to burn through the majority of a day with my nose stuck in a book.”

“It’s fine Hermione. I was an arse to you this morning so I get you’d need some space, sorry.”

“It’s okay Ron. I don’t really know what’s going on but Harry said you’d tell me when you were ready.” Ron looked a bit confused at her statement. “How about we get to the living room, see if they have an update for us?” Harry and Malfoy were already standing by the fireplace as the four of them patiently waited for news, hopefully, something more informative than what had previously been given. 

“Good afternoon quarantined witches and wizards, this is Dolores Paterson, Head of the Department of Magical Quarantining. We are happy to announce that we have been working around the clock to find out what had happened to each of you. Turns out the wizards from the magical creatures hoarding situation you happened upon had been brewing a mating potion to increase breeding turnaround times. However, a rather large batch had been brewed and was spilled onto magical ink. This has resulted in a temporary tattoo of your mate, as it were. It has not affected anyone’s magic to our knowledge but the tattoo disappears for those people who have met the mate matches. We will be sending you an owl with a Weasley CamPro for each of you to take a picture of your tattoos, then send it back with the owl along with who you think could be your potential mate. Owls will be arriving between six and nine pm and we would appreciate them being returned no later than eight am, as we know not all of the tattoos are easy to find or distinguish. Once this has been completed, tattoos analyzed and cross-referenced we will debrief again, hopefully, around five pm tomorrow night. I bid you all a good night.” The room was utterly silent. Each magical person was taking in the news of what Mrs. Paterson had left them with.

“So, that just happened, right? As in, we have potentially all just found who we best suited for?” Ron inquired to the awestruck group. 

“I suppose it could be true, magic is temperamental at best, and at this current point in time, it could be pointing us to people with who we are best matched. Not to say it’s set in concrete or anything, because people change and evolve, but as it stands right now.”

“Certainly takes the guesswork out of finding ‘the one’ and leads you right into dating.”

“As long as the two of you get along, Weaselbee. What if you end up with someone like Milicent Bulstrode?” 

“Ugh, why you gotta pop my bubble.”

“Watching you deflate brings me great joy.”

“Well, I suppose Harry and Ron’s tattoos are pretty self-explanatory then.” 

“I understand Potter’s tattoo, but not Weaselbee’s.”

“Wait, you already know who ours are? It's only been ten minutes since the announcement was made.”

“You and Ronald are straight forward thinkers, always looking for the simple and easy fix whenever possible. Don't give me that look you two, it’s absolutely true! Harry, you have a beautifully crafted pansy on top of an array of green watercolors. Clearly, this is Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin. While Ronald has a lovely crescent moon with a soft, fluffy cloud floating in front of it. Obviously, this is our good friend Luna Lovegood.” Harry’s mouth was wide open while Ron’s face was the color of his own hair.

“Pansy has fancied you for ages, Potter. Why else do you think she’s always sitting next to you when she is in town? You can’t tell me that the hand on your arm or thigh hasn’t left you the least bit curious. You’re not that daft.”

“I’ve been busy with work and haven’t had time to owl her back. I never really gave it much thought.”

“You were a shit liar in school and you’re a shit liar now, Potter.”

“Hold up! Mate, did you just say you haven’t owled her back yet?” Harry’s eyes went wide as he realized his slip-up. “Didn’t realize your first date had gone that well.”

“Ron!” Harry gaped at his best friend. “There’s a reason no-one tells you their secrets. Last time I tell you something of importance. Besides, you’ve been head over heels for Luna since she snogged you at last year’s new year's party at the Burrow.” 

“Payback’s a bitch, eh Weasley.” 

“How about you show us your tattoo, Mister High and Mighty!” Malfoy undid the first four buttons of his shirt, pulling it to the left to show the outline of a lightbulb. “That could bloody well mean anything. You’re going to be searching for a while, pity.” 

“What about you Hermione?” Harry was looking her up and down for anything obvious on her gold kissed skin from the sun she’d seen that summer. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t really spotted anything yet.” She spun around to show them her back, hiking up her dress mid-thigh. “Anything?”

“I don’t see anything, sorry Hermione.”

“You don’t think . . . this means I have no mate then, do you?” Her lip trembled slightly as she spoke, the idea of being alone forever scared her the most out of anything else she had ever been through.

“Absolutely not, Hermione! There’s lots of skin that we can’t see and you’ve been wrapped up in a book all day, so you haven’t been actively looking.” Harry put both hands on her shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “No matter what this blasted magic tells us you will find THE perfect match for you, of that I’m sure.” 

“Poor sap is probably stuck in a tree, on an island, and lost his wand.” She giggled at Ron’s statement. 

“How about I get supper ready? This will probably be your last night here with us before they bring in Pansy and Luna in the morning. I wonder what Luna’s tattoo was since she was at the scene with us.”

“Maybe it was a slug and bucket,” Malfoy smirked.

“Oi! That wasn’t funny and still isn’t funny now!”

“Says you but that incident was the highlight of our year. Maybe it’s a broken wand?”

“Nah, I broke my wand too,” Harry hummed in thought. “Maybe something to do with Quidditch or chess?”

“Again, those could mean anything, mate.”

“You could just tell us when you see us next, after your interaction with Luna,” Hermione commented over her shoulder from where she was slicing vegetables to roast. “My guess would be that it has something to do with your family though. Red hair or a W, something along the lines of that.”

“Whatcha making?” Ron entered the kitchen to see multiple sliced vegetables and pork cutlets out.

“Figured I’d do up roasted vegetables and crispy pork with a raspberry vinaigrette salad. There are also six different flavors of ice cream in the freezer we can have for dessert. Now, out of my kitchen.” Her two best friends laughed at her as they left the room, turning on the tele to some random show.

“Granger?”

“Hmm?”

“Ah, nevermind. Let me know if you need anything else.” She watched him walk out of the room, his heart slightly constricting as he walked away from her. Why did the idea of him turning his back to her make her want to chase after him and wrap him in her arms? Shaking her head Hermione set back to the task at hand, later she’d contemplate whatever was going on. She could keep pushing this off, right? 

Supper was a quieter affair tonight, seeing as how two of the four know who they were supposed to be destined with. Luna and Pansy, who would have thought? It’s not like Ron and Harry talked about their crushes with her, not unless it was dragged out of them and even then it was usually just a name. It was hard enough to get them to admit when they were angry or sad, and that was just ADMITTING that they were feeling something. Why were all of the men in her life emotionally stunted? Malfoy helped her clean off the table as Harry and Ron vacated their rooms with a bottle of whiskey the blonde had given them along with two glass tumblers. Whether the two were going to celebrate or mourn she wasn’t too sure, maybe a bit of both? 

Malfoy was close enough to her that she could smell his cedar and spearmint cologne but far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to touch her. She found it odd. He had no issues yesterday getting up in her space, flirting, and waking up with her in his arms. Now he looked pained to be in her very presence. 

“Now that clean-up is done I’m going to change into some loungewear. Did you want to watch the tele with me, maybe have some popcorn?”

“That sounds pretty good. I’ll let you change first since we’re sharing a room and all.” The sly look on his face had hers heating several degrees, so she fled to the comfort of their room. HIS room! He’d been so quiet and somber all day, granted she has rather preoccupied herself, but then he had to go and . . . and flirt with her. She tossed her clothes on the floor, beside the hamper, and sat cross-legged on the bed. Running her hands over her thighs was a nervous tick of hers when she was alone. Her index finger ran across the inside of her left thigh several times, finding odd bumps. Scrunching up her nose she looked closer to find twenty inky black dots on her creamy skin. 

“Draco. DRACO!” 

“What’s wrong Gran . . .” Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks as he gazed upon her near-naked form. “Granger, what the bloody hell . . .”

“Get your arse over here and look.” He gulped, took a steady breath before he walked over to the crazed woman. She grabbed his hand, placing it on her inner thigh. “Do you feel that?”

Oh, he was feeling a lot of different things right now, physically and emotionally.

“The bumps, do you feel them?” Malfoy squatted, getting eye level with her thighs and naughty bits. His eyes trailed the course of the twenty dark spots on her skin. “It’s my tattoo but I have no idea what it could be.”

“Granger, these spots. I know what they are.”

“Hermi-ni-nny,” Ron hollered as he stumbled through the door of their, DRACO’S, bedroom. “Do you weelly fink that Looooona could like a bloke like moi?” Blasted all to hell Weasley! Malfoy bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling at the cock-blocking insufferable red-head. Not that he was going to get anywhere with Granger, at this particular moment, but the hope that he could have had a wee bit of fun had been spoiled.

“Blimey Herm-nee, why you nake-ed?” Apparently giving them some of the good stuff had been a very, very bad idea. 

“I’m not naked Harry, I am perfectly,” Hermione paused, looking down at herself in the matching underwear set that she was in, then to Malfoy, Harry, Ron, and back to Malfoy. Hermione pulled the comforter over herself, trying to not feel as embarrassed as she currently was. “Why are the two of you in here?”

“Heard you. You yelled the prat’s . . . first name. Why?” Harry wasn’t slurring as much, clearly, the shock had brought back a small piece of sobriety to them, at least for the moment. 

“I found my tattoo.”

“That meant you needed to drop your drawers?” Ron tried to look intimidating in his drunken stupor but only caused Hermione to giggle at the man.

“Her undergarments are still on, Weaselbee. Why don’t the two of you wander back to your beds and sleep this off.”

“Screw off, Malfoy. You just want to get into Herminny’s knickers and win the bet.”

“Bet? What bet?” Hermione looked to Malfoy, confusion, hurt, and anger clearly written on her face. 

“There was no bet, Granger.” 

“He’s a wye-arr. Tell’em ‘Arry.” Harry leaned over to Ron, attempting to whisper in his ear.

“But Mal-foy is in wuv wif Herminny. What if he’s her ONE?” Hermione looked between her best friend and secret crush in rapid succession. 

“For fuck’s sake. Will you two bloody idiots go to bed already.” Malfoy ran a hand down his face in frustration, keeping his back turned to Hermione so that he wouldn’t have to see her look at him with disgust. 

“Fine. Bed is good.” Harry drunkenly led Ron back to their shared room. The whole time you could hear them bumping into walls, laughing, and loudly talking until the slam of the door cut them off. Clearly, they didn’t know their own strength while drunk, the poor door. 

“I don’t understand, Malfoy. What’s going on? Why would they lie about something like that?”

“Weasley is out of his bloody mind. We didn’t make a bet of any kind while we were playing Monopoly, I promise you that. Every time someone landed on another’s property the owner got to ask the payee a question. An edited version of Truth or Dare, if you will.”

“And was what? A prize to be had?”

“Absolutely not, Granger! Can we talk about this later, say tomorrow when Weaseldee and Weaseldumb are gone?” 

“You expect me to crawl into bed with you, after that lackluster explanation?”

“If it bothers you that much I’ll take the bloody couch, but I rather sleep with you in my arms.”

“Why, so you can cop a feel? Try to lure into a false sense of hope?”

“So I can sleep without nightmares. Last night was the first time in . . . well, I don’t actually know how long.”

“The war?” Hermione gently inquired. Malfoy nodded his head to confirm the answer to her question. “Can you grab me something to wear to bed, please? I am not wearing this, that’s for bloody sure.” He tossed her some more silk garments, which she caught, and made her way to the ensuite to change. She tossed the clothing on the floor, gripping the edge of the sink countertop as she tried to stop her head from spinning. Malfoy was being hot and cold while her best friends had admitted on Malfoy’s behalf that he was in love with her.

What the bloody hell was going on?

Nothing made sense. These boys were being all weird and crazy. She felt like the control she practiced in her everyday life was gone. Her perfectly balanced world seemed to turn on its axis incredibly violently. The pieces of the puzzles were not matching, no matter how hard she tried to find the pattern to match the edges. Maybe there was more going on from the magic explosion than what the Ministry had let on? 

Hermione walked out of the bathroom in a dark blue silk t-shirt and shorts, Malfoy was sitting on the opposite of the bed with his back to her. She liked Malfoy, Merlin be damned. Gathering up her Gryffindor courage she crawled onto her side of the bed, crawling towards the blonde. She didn’t know what the bloody hell was going, and maybe that was okay for this point in time. Delicately, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressed her front to his back while resting her chin on him. Malfoy physically relaxed, body sagging into her and the bed in one simple motion. 

“I suppose you’re going to want some kind of an explanation?”

“Naturally,” she smirked while his shoulders shook from a small laugh. “How about in the morning though?”

“Granger, are you sick? You want to WAIT for me to explain things to you?” He pressed one hand to her forehead, checking her temperature. 

“There’s been a lot going on today and as loathe as I am to say this, I would rather sleep. In this bed. With you. Strictly platonically.” Malfoy stood up, making quick work of his clothes so that he was only in his boxers. Hermione bit her lip while she took him in, ALL of him, without feeling like she was spying.

“Continue to bite that lip and we’re going to have issues, Granger.” Hermione quickly released her bottom lip, scooched herself over to her bed, and quickly slipped under the covers. Malfoy was hot on her trail, slinking in right behind her, pulling her flush against him. He placed several gentle kisses to the side of her neck before inhaling her scent, wrapping himself up in the strawberry vanilla shampoo that encompassed her. 

“Once Harry and Ron leave in the morning, will we be able to have that talk?’

“Mhmm, yeah we will. Why do you call Weasley Ronald to his face and Ron when he's not around?”

“It makes him pouty and I find it funny.” They chuckled before slowly falling into a dreamless sleep. 

“Would you two wake up already?” Harry called from the doorway. “Ron and I have to leave in fifteen minutes to meet up with Luna and Pansy. Mate, what are you . . .” Ron launched himself onto Malfoy and Hermione’s bed, effectively spurring the two of them awake. 

“Bloody hell, Weaslebee!”

“Ronald! Get off of us you bloody idiot!” Hermione shoved the red-head with all her strength, rolling him right off the side of the bed. 

“Ouch. That wasn’t nice Hermione”

“Neither was jumping onto us like a five-year-old, Ronald.” Ron was rubbing his head from smacking it against the floor as he made his way over to Harry. “Give us a few minutes to get decent and we’ll be right out.” Hermione hastily put on some loose shorts and a large jumper while Malfoy threw on some soft trousers and a t-shirt. 

“Alright you two, what do you need from us before you leave?” Hermione wasn’t a morning person, even less when she was being disturbed from cuddling with Malfoy. 

“We’re bloody nervous!” Ron blurted out without any pretense. “We’re supposedly meeting the women we are to spend the rest of our lives within less than ten minutes. What if they don’t like us? What if we don’t like them? What if this is a piss poor joke of some elaborate kind?” 

“Suffered much at your brother’s expense, Weaslebee?” 

“I’ll forever be haunted by the twins, but honestly. Aren’t you two nervous?”

“Course not, Ron. They don’t even know what their tattoos mean, yet. Why be nervous over not knowing.” Harry muttered, trying not to sound as bothered as he clearly was.

“You two don’t talk to me about girl issues, ever, so why would now be any different? Would you like me to give you fake reassurances? Tell you it’ll all be fine? We’re all in the same boat, we just don’t know what the parameters of such a potential union would be. We are all going to have to play this by ear until the Ministry knows if there are any long-lasting effects.”

“Live in the moment, see where it goes, and don’t fuck it up.” Malfoy pointedly looked at Ron, who blushed. A ministry representative called his name, puffing his chest out. He strolled into the floo and gave his friends a small wave. 

“Good luck Harry.” He nodded back to her as his name was called, a green light surrounded him, and he was gone. Hermione spun on her heel, hands-on-hips, and she looked to the blonde. “Explanations, please.” 

“Where should I start, Granger?”

“You like me?” Malfoy nodded his head yes. “When did this start?”

“Honestly, the first year at Hogwarts but I didn’t realize it until you punched me in the third year.”

“I don’t understand, why would you not say anything for years?”

“I was a fucking annoying prat who had been under his father’s rule for far too long to realize wrong was right and vice versa. My father used to comment all the time about how I couldn’t shut up about you whenever I wrote a letter or was home from school. Mum knew though, the crafty witch that she is.”

“You told your parents about me? That makes sense though, since the bookshop incident a second year.”

“Father’s prejudices seeped over quite well, but it wasn't until after the war I found out my mother’s side of the story. Mother didn’t see the world like Aunt Bella did, wanting to rule and have everyone bow down to her. Nor was she like Aunt Andromeda, who chose to see the light and marry for love.”

“Which had her banished from the Black household. So where did Narcissa’s opinions lay?”

“Pureblood status mattered to my mother, but in the sense that there was history, long lineage, of magic. She was well aware that people could be born with extraordinary magic from muggles. Look at Potter’s mother or you. However, she had to be the perfect wife to marry well. My maternal grandfather was very much the same mindset as my father. Follow the path of least resistance to power, glory, and money.” Hermione snorted.

“Yeah, look where that landed your family.”

“Mother was absolutely pissed at my father once the war was over. She kept him in a separate wing of the house up until the day of his sentencing. We had some eye-opening conversations after that, about her views of the world.”

“Which I’m sure prompted you to re-evaluate your own.” 

“Correct. It was while I was doing some soul searching, that I started to reflect on how poorly I acted towards you. Once I delved into that I realized that I fancied you. It wasn’t until I started working at the Ministry that I started to be bolder so that you would notice me.”

“I’ve always noticed you, Malfoy,” Hermione blurted before she could stop herself.

“Oh? Do I get an explanation too then? Seems only fair.”

“Once you’re done I will go.”

“Those two idiots were right, I love you. Fell in love with you while I was observing you from afar. Too afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings, but that didn’t stop me from flirting when I had the chance.”

“How did Ron and Harry find out about you being in . . . in love with me?”

“Truth or Dare game with charmed cards from the Weasel twin’s shop. We had a few too many drinks one night at the pub, returned here and Weaslebee brought out that accursed deck of cards.” 

“Well, that explains how they knew the landscape of your home. What about the bet?”

“There was no bloody bet,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Weasley decided that we should rock paper scissors for sleeping arrangements and when I won he became quite heated, so after silencing the room while we played the muggle board game, we came to an . . . agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” 

“He would let whatever may happen to us to transpire, without him interfering, A lot of good that had done us though.”

“Yesterday morning, when you said ‘whatever time you’ll give me’ what did you mean?”

“Up until the kitchen scene the first night I wasn’t exactly sure how you felt about me. Was I the childhood boy that bullied you? A Death Eater for life? Spoiled prat with father issues.” Hermione raised an elegant eyebrow at the comment. “Fine, I still am to some degree. However, I wasn’t sure what light you saw me in anymore. You were always friendly but guarded.”

“Because I had no idea how to act around you!” Hermione threw her hands up into the air. “You come into the ministry everyday wearing suits, that-that just do things to me, looking all put together, elegant and my brain decides to take a mini-vacation. I didn’t know someone could look so damn handsome wearing a three-piece suit, in ALL black, until you. How did you hear me in the kitchen?” 

“I am skilled in Occlumency and Legilimency thanks to my mother and Aunt Bella. Your thoughts that night were honestly so loud that I could see, hear, and picture everything you were imagining. It was lovely.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe you say that particular fantasy.”

“Granger, are there more? How long?”

“Of course there’s more. You’re not the only one who thought they were hopelessly attracted to someone who didn’t want them. The Yule Ball. You looked so dashing in your dress robes, it was the first night I dreamt about you.”

“Didn’t you and Krum?”

“No! Well, yes but not the night of the Yule Ball. It was when I went to visit him after the tournament and all that.”

“So that was when you first started to like me. Makes sense, you weren’t trying to constantly one-up me after that. So, we’re both a couple of idiots.”

“I suppose we are. Now what?”

“Now, with your permission, I’d like to fuck you for the rest of the day.” Malfoy was mere inches from her body, she could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“We can’t!”

“Bloody hell. Why not?” 

“You could be someone else’s mate Draco. I wouldn’t be able to see you with someone else, even if we only had sex one time.”

“Have you looked at my tattoo, Hermione? Really looked at it.”

“Well, no.”

“Then you need to do so.” Malfoy made sure that she could see the tattoo without anything obscuring her vision.

“Is that . . . no it couldn’t possibly be,” she whispered in awe.

“A lightbulb, representing the brightest witch of our age with the filament being in the shape of an otter. Right over my heart, which is what you own, whether you acknowledge that or not.”

“But . . . but the black dots on the inside of my thigh . . .”

“The twenty stars that make up the Draco constellation in the night sky.”

“I . . . is this . . . real? Really real?”

“Hermione,” Malfoy grabbed her fingertips, pressing a kiss to the middle knuckle of each hand. “This is as real as you want it to be. The pace is up to you. I won’t do anything to you that you haven’t agreed to.”

“I want you. I don’t want to wait, Draco. We’ve spent years around one another, going on dates can wait a day or week. I really don’t care, I just want you.”

“You’ll have me, for however long you decide to keep my smart arse around.” He cupped her cheeks in both his hands to press his lips lightly against her plump pink ones. Hermione broke the kiss, smiling into grey eyes.

“Forever sounds good to me.”


End file.
